A Little Less Conversation
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: A casefile starring Tony and Tim, written for the NFA SeSa Fic Exchange. When an Elvis impersonator is killed at the DC Elvis Week, it's up to the team to find out who did it. Unbeknownst to them all, Tony has a secret that could help them with the case. Already complete. Seven chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This story was written for the NFA SeSa Fic Exchange. The request was for a story that was centered on Elvis impersonators and Elvis Week. It's just a little casefile set, vaguely, at the beginning of season 11. There are no spoilers.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own NCIS, its characters or any of the Elvis songs I use in this story. I'm not making any money off this.

* * *

 **A Little Less Conversation  
** by Enthusiastic Fish

 **Chapter 1: Prologue**

It was a great crowd. Alden Jacobs could see that he'd been right to get this mini-Elvis Week going in the DC Metro area. Not everyone could make it to Memphis, but the love of Elvis still ran strong. Alden had spent two years trying to get permission to set this up and market it. Some of the money would go to the Elvis estate, but that was fine with Alden. While the money looked to be great, he was doing it because he loved Elvis, had seen him perform as a child, and wanted to have the memory live on.

The week had been excellent so far with upwards of 50 Elvis impersonators participating and thousands of spectators. A major part of this week was an impersonation contest. He had set it up as a tournament. The winner received $10,000 _and_ an opportunity to perform at the official Elvis Week in Memphis. For most of them, it would be enough just to perform for an appreciative audience, but the cash and the chance to perform in Memphis was a major inducement for the really serious impersonators.

He walked over to the stage where another Elvis was performing.

The wonderful thing, Alden decided, was that these people were all around. Some of them got so into it that you could barely tell them from the real Elvis...but then, the next day, they got up, took off their sideburns, and went to work and no one would guess that they were Elvis impersonators. This was a chance for them to show off their talents without feeling ashamed of it.

The current Elvis wasn't the best they'd had, and he also had the disadvantage of following a really excellent Elvis, but the crowd was still cheering him on.

Suddenly, there was a scream, not a cheering scream, but a frightened scream. It was coming from outside.

Alden turned and ran out of the building and saw a growing crowd, making distressed noises.

What they were looking at was quickly apparent.

Elvis was lying on the pavement. Dead.

"What happened?" he asked no one in particular.

"He fell! I saw him fall! It was terrible!" a woman said. A man started to comfort her.

The Elvis wig had come off. Alden started to kneel down.

"Don't touch the body," an authoritative voice commanded.

Alden looked up and saw a stern-looking woman standing beside him. She seemed completely unfazed.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that this is a crime scene. The man is obviously dead. If you touch him, move him, you'll risk obscuring any evidence. He's clearly part of the military."

"How can you know that?"

"Easy," she said, pointing at the man's bloody head. "Military cut and that means a federal investigation, depending on the branch."

Alden stood up.

"Who are _you_?"

The woman smiled. "I'm a lawyer. I'll call the police and get them here to start working until we find out who he is. ...besides Elvis."

She pulled out her phone and dialed. Alden looked down and then looked up to the top of the building.

It was totally inappropriate, but he couldn't help it.

"Elvis has left the building," he whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Tony walked in, still feeling resentful. Of all the weeks for HR play hard-nosed, it had to be _this_ week.

"What's wrong with you, Tony?" Tim asked.

Tony just grunted.

"Seriously, what's up?"

Tony looked at him.

"I wasn't supposed to be at work this week. I put in a request for time off and HR rejected it."

"Oh, too bad. What were you going to do?"

Now, Tony was pulled up short. No way would he admit to Tim _why_ he wanted to miss work this week. He'd never live it down. No one knew about this and Tony was determined to keep it that way.

"Just a vacation. I figure I could use one, but HR disagreed."

"They gave me a lot of grief a couple of weeks ago, too. Delilah and I were going to go for a weekend, and you'd have thought I was asking for a year paid leave to find myself instead of one day off."

Tony chuckled.

"Yeah. Figures."

"Are you going to try for next week?"

"Nah. No point. I'll just give them time to forget that I asked and try again later."

"It had better be a lot later," Gibbs said, striding in from nowhere as usual. "We have a dead body."

"Who?" Tim asked as they grabbed their things.

"Elvis."

Tim stopped mid stride and gaped at Gibbs.

"What?"

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at him, as if surprised that he was surprised.

"That's the last name, right, Boss?" Tony asked.

"Nope."

"What's the last name, then?"

There was the slightest twitch in Gibbs' expression. "Presley."

Tim and Tony shared glances and finally, Gibbs was done confusing them.

"Elvis impersonator fell off a roof and landed on the pavement. He's a Marine. Let's go!"

With a sigh of relief, Tony started moving. "On your six, Boss!"

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

They pulled up at a conference center just outside DC and what they saw pulled them up short.

"Uh...I'm seeing Elvis," Tim said, in surprise.

Elvis. He was everywhere. Probably thirty or forty Elvises were out on the sidewalk with normal people mixed in among them.

"What's going on?" Tim asked.

"Obviously an Elvis convention," Tony said.

"Oh. They have those?" Tim asked. "That seems a little..."

Then, he gulped a little as he looked beyond Tony. He seemed more than surprised. Tony turned and couldn't contain his own surprise.

"Commander Coleman," Gibbs said, betraying none of any surprise he might be feeling.

"Agent Gibbs," Faith said, smiling. "Your body is right over there. Metro has already cordoned off the area. I instructed the man in charge to call them, first, until we could discern which branch of the military he was in."

"You knew he was?"

"Military cut. I figured it was more likely than not. Not too many people seek that out if it's not required...present company excepted, of course."

"What are _you_ doing here?" Tony asked.

"Attending part of the DC Elvis Week," Faith said.

"Elvis Week? What's that?" Tim asked.

"Well, the real Elvis Week is in Memphis in August, but I can't take that much time off. I can drop in here when I've got the time. It's the first time there's been something so organized in DC."

"What's the point?" Tim asked.

"To enjoy the music of Elvis by watching people perform. Surely, you're familiar with the concept of enjoying a spectacle, Agent McGee," Faith said.

Tim blushed.

"I happen to be quite a fan of Elvis. I've attended little events for years. In fact, there was a particular Elvis impersonator I was hoping to see, but so far, he hasn't turned up. I'm a little disappointed. He was the best Elvis I've ever heard since the real thing. You should hear him perform some of the singles. Everyone sings 'Blue Suede Shoes' and 'Can't Help Falling in Love', but he really got into some of the others like 'A Little Less Conversation' and 'Hound Dog'. I'd have paid to hear him sing. However, he was not the man who fell, Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs started toward the body, gesturing to Faith to follow. He flashed his badge to the officer on duty.

"Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS," he said.

"Yes, sir. Officer Wilcox. We've got it started, but we knew that you would be coming. I'm assuming you'll have an M.E.?"

"He'll be here, soon," Gibbs said. "Anything you can tell me to start?"

"That old guy over there is Alden Jacobs. He's the organizer of this circus. The woman over _there_ is Janeen Lewis-Calk. She saw the fall and screamed. No one else has admitted to seeing it, but they sure heard _her_. Elvis is everywhere, and we've tried to keep everyone here who was present at the time _this_ Elvis fell. That's upwards of a thousand people here, tonight. Never knew so many people still liked Elvis. I think he was overrated, myself."

"Oh, come on," Tony said, forgetting himself for a moment. "How can you possibly pass up on the King getting up on stage, singing, ' _Don't you step on my blue suede shoes!'_ "

"Nice, Tony," Tim said. "Maybe _you_ should be an Elvis guy. I could see you idolizing Elvis Presley."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Probie."

Tim grinned. "All the girls fawning over him, a performer, center of attention, flamboyant. It's like your ideal, isn't it?"

"Ha ha," Tony said. "Very funny."

"You two planning on getting some work done tonight?" Gibbs asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Sure, Boss," Tony said. "Photos, McGee?"

Tim nodded and knelt down by the body. He started taking photos of the position of the body and the accouterments. He supposed that after seeing people who lived their lives as superheroes, Elvis impersonators shouldn't be all that shocking. Maybe it was just seeing so _many_ all in one place. This particular Elvis was rather subdued in costume. No sequins, no big designs. It was white satin with some red satin inserts. Tim wasn't an Elvis expert, but he seemed to remember Elvis being a lot more fancy. He kept one ear open to the continuing conversations while he worked.

"So did you see anything, Commander Coleman?" Tony asked.

"No. I heard the scream and I joined the crowd, but that's all."

"Did you see _this_ Elvis perform?"

She nodded. "He was good. Not as good as the one I'd wanted to see, but he did one of the best renditions of 'Jailhouse Rock' that I've seen in a long time."

"Did you see him tonight?"

"No. He performed last night and won his day. The competition is supposed to be finished on Friday. There's a final sing off and then, the winner will be announced. He was definitely in the running. He's Navy?"

"Marine," Gibbs said. "Captain James Hokansen."

"Captain? Interesting. I can't tell you anything more about him in particular, but if you need me to answer any more questions about the convention, I'll be happy to help."

"Thanks." Gibbs turned back to Tim and Tony. "As soon as Ducky gets here..."

"Up on the roof, right, Boss," Tony said.

Tim nodded and kept taking photos while Tony started scoping out the building and Gibbs went to talk to the woman who had seen Hokansen fall.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Can you tell me exactly what you saw, ma'am?" Gibbs asked.

Janeen nodded.

"I was leaving the building because I couldn't stay here all night. Elvis is fun, but watching doesn't pay the bills." She took a breath. "I'm trying to quit smoking, but I was going to let myself smoke one cigarette before work. My husband doesn't know that I'm still buying cigarettes. If I smoked one here, he'd never know."

Gibbs nodded and gestured for her to continue.

"So I was out here on the sidewalk. I'd just lit it up when I heard a shout from _above_ me. I looked up..." She took another breath. "...and I saw this...this thing coming at me! I ran back and I saw him... _hit the ground_. I screamed and people started coming over here."

"Did you see anyone up on top of the building?"

Janeen shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. If there was someone up there, I didn't see. I was too distracted. Man, I could use a smoke. I don't suppose you have a cigarette?"

"I don't smoke, ma'am."

"I shouldn't, either," she said, with a sigh. "Maybe, I should take this as a sign that it's time to be done."

"Maybe," Gibbs said. "Did you see him perform?"

She nodded. "He was really good. One of the best. I think that he had a good chance of winning it all. Not now...of course."

Gibbs nodded.

"Did you see him outside of performing?"

"No. I haven't been at this much. Just when I had a little time."

"If you think of anything, call us," he said, handing her his card.

"Of course."

Gibbs headed back to the body and saw the truck pull up. Ducky and Jimmy got out and came over to him.

"Well, Jethro, I see that this truly is a different sort of gathering," Ducky said.

"I love it!" Jimmy said. "I've always wanted to come to one of these things. You don't get any cooler than Elvis."

"I'm afraid you and I will have to agree to disagree on that point, Mr. Palmer," Ducky said. "However, I'm sure it would be an experience. And I understand that our Marine was one of the participants?"

"Captain Hokansen," Tony said. "Up to the roof, Boss?"

Gibbs nodded.

"You think you can keep yourself from freaking out, McGee?" Tony asked, with an evil grin.

Tim rolled his eyes. "Unless you decide to throw _me_ off the roof, Tony. Let's go."

They went into the building together, and Gibbs looked down at the body once more."

"Has he been moved at all?" Ducky asked.

"Metro says they didn't. The man running the convention finally identified him."

"Cause of death seems fairly obvious," Ducky said, "but as always, he may have some secrets to share that are not readily apparent."

Gibbs knelt and checked the pockets of the costume, but they were empty. Surely, Hokansen would have come with ID, a phone, and a change of clothes. He stood up and found Alden Jacobs, standing near the police caution tape. He beckoned to the older man to come and join him.

"Yes, sir?"

"Agent Gibbs. NCIS."

"What can I do for you, Agent Gibbs?"

"Mr. Jacobs, I understand that you're in charge of this event?"

"Yes. It's been my undertaking from the beginning. It's taken ages to get it going. I know it sounds callous, but I hope that this tragedy doesn't ruin it."

"What can you tell me about Captain Hokansen?"

"Very little, I'm afraid. I recognized him because I helped register everyone. He told me that he had learned to love Elvis because his father had loved Elvis, but that this would be his first time performing in public. You'd never have known it, watching him. He was a natural. Not as over-the-top as some are. Beyond that, I didn't even know that he was military. He didn't state that, but then, it wasn't required, either. There's a fee to help cover the costs and he paid it."

"Is there a changing room in the building?"

"Of course. I don't think anyone showed up dressed as Elvis. There's a room behind the stage. I can take you back there."

Gibbs looked over at Ducky and Jimmy.

"You all right, Duck?" he asked.

"Of course. We'll get him back to Autopsy and get started."

Gibbs nodded for him to go on with it and then turned back to Alden and followed him into the building, hoping for some clues. It would be nice to have a definite place to start right at the beginning instead of having to figure it all out with long days and nights.

"How much longer does your event go?" he asked.

"Just until the end of the week. The final competition is on Saturday night."

"The prize?"

"It's a cash prize of $10,000 and a chance to sing in Memphis in August."

"That's a lot of money. You make that much with this?"

Alden nodded. "I have over 50 men competing. Each one paying to compete. We've had nearly a thousand people in and out during the day. Plus, I got some money from the Presley estate with the understanding that I will be giving them a percentage of any profits that come from this. If it's successful, it could become an annual event. So much the better for me. Here's where the competitors can change and keep their clothing."

The door to the dressing room had a sign on it.

 _For Elvis competitors only. Any trespassers will be all shook up._

Gibbs raised an eyebrow and Alden smiled a little.

"I may have got a little carried away."

Gibbs suppressed a smile of his own and gestured for Alden to go on.

He led Gibbs into a large divided room. A set of doors led to each side. On one side, there were a number of mirrored vanities. On the other were lockers. The lockers were labeled and he quickly found the one belonging to Lt. Hokansen.

"What's going to happen, here, Agent Gibbs?"

"We're going to investigate and find out what happened to Lt. Hokansen."

"I mean...will you have to shut down the rest of the events for the week?"

Gibbs paused in his search and raised an inquiring eyebrow. Alden acknowledged the look.

"I know that sounds bad, but I've spent so long trying to get this going and I'm afraid that this kind of thing will destroy what I've been trying to create. I won't fight it if you say that it has to be shut down, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping that we could keep on."

Gibbs considered. He could see where Alden was coming from, and actually, right now, while they weren't sure what had happened or why, it might be best to let things continue on as normally as possible to keep from spooking the killer...if there was one.

"Right now, I don't see why not, but I'm not making any promises."

"I understand."

Gibbs opened the locker and started going through Captain Hokansen's things, searching for anything that might lead him to a clue.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I apologize for not replying to any reviews. Right now, I'm getting them in my email, but the site is saying they don't exist. Please know that I really appreciate them and once this glitch gets fixed, I'll reply!

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

"You sure you'll be okay up here, McPhobia?"

Tim grimaced. "Really, Tony. That's one of your lamer attempts. I'm fine as long as you're not hanging me over the edge. He must have fallen over there," he said, pointing.

"Yeah. I'll start over there. You can collect fingerprints on the doorknobs."

"Oh, may I? Thank you so much," Tim said.

"Just thinking of you," Tony said with a winning smile and walked over to the edge of the building. He looked down to the ground. He could see all the flashing lights and the crowds. Definitely the right place.

He started looking around the roof. He pulled out his camera and began to document the whole space.

"You'd think all these people would have something better to do than gawk," he said.

"If they did, they probably wouldn't be there," Tim said.

Tony looked back to see Tim carefully checking for fingerprints on the door. He grinned and looked back. A glimmer caught his eye. He walked over and knelt down by the edge of the building.

"Hey, Probie, I found sequins!"

Tim walked over to join him.

"Captain Hokansen's costume didn't have sequins. It was just red and white satin."

Tony looked up.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Tony took a few pictures and then collected the sequins. They were a glimmering white. Fitting for an Elvis costume.

"Well, then, it looks like there was another Elvis on the building, and only one left."

"How many Elvis jokes are you going to make during this case?"

"As many as possible."

"I was afraid of that."

"Oh, come on, McGee. You probably know some, yourself. You're way too dismissive to not care."

Tim raised an eyebrow at him.

"I just don't get all this obsession."

"You of the Comic Con geeks don't get people dressing up?"

"Those are fictional characters, Tony."

"Yeah? I'm waiting to hear how that's different."

"It just seems weird to me to dress up and imitate a real person. It seems different. Maybe it's just me. I mean, people like singing a lot of songs but they don't feel the need to dress up as Frank Sinatra or the Rolling Stones."

Tony smiled. "That's where you're missing the boat. How do you dress up like them? They didn't have the same kind of visual flair that Elvis did. Sinatra was classy, but he didn't have a costume. White, sequined costumes, that _hair_. It's all about the appearance. Do you think no one dresses up like KISS?"

"As far as I know, there aren't KISS conventions where people sing their songs, dressed up like them. Besides, they mostly look like evil clowns. They're more than halfway to Halloween costumes already."

Tony put his arm around Tim's shoulders and sighed dramatically.

"If you can't see it, Probie, you'll never know."

"Right. Don't lose those sequins. Gibbs will kill you."

"I've _never_ lost evidence, McGee. I'm hurt that you'd think I'd be that sloppy."

Tim smiled and went back to the door, leaving Tony to finish up by the ledge. They both worked in silence for a while which was, admittedly, a near miracle. Tony checked for prints on the ledge itself and found nothing. He looked for blood and found none. There was a black mark on the ground where it looked like someone had dragged his feet. Captain Hokansen or another person remained to be seen. Tim went into the stairwell and checked the railings and the steps. Both of them were determined not to miss anything.

"Any fingerprints?" Tony asked.

"Some. There are a few partials, a few smudges. Hard to tell if it'll be enough for Abby."

"Besides the sequins and a scuff on the ground here, I'm not seeing anything else to indicate what happened."

Tim straightened and stowed the fingerprints in his bag.

"Well, we know that it's unlikely that Captain Hokansen was up here alone, and that mark and those sequins gives some indication that there was a scuffle, if not an outright fight going on up here. If we're lucky, Abby will work her magic and get some readable fingerprints."

"You really think it will be that easy?" Tony asked.

"Hey, I can dream, can't I?"

Tony grinned and started singing.

" _And while I can think, while I can talk  
_ _While I can stand, while I can walk  
_ _While I can dream, please let my dream  
_ _Come true, right now  
_ _Let it come true right now."_

"Elvis?" Tim guessed.

"Of course."

"You sound pretty good, Tony. Maybe you _should_ join up with the impersonators."

That was suddenly the coolest idea in the world.

"Hey, that's a great idea!"

"What is?" Tim asked, furrowing his brow.

"Undercover! I could go undercover as an Elvis impersonator!"

"Do we _need_ someone undercover? We just barely got started."

"Exactly. We just got started. No one will have seen me. I can snoop around and look at costumes while the Elvises are getting ready to perform. Talk to the participants."

"And perform?"

"I can _always_ put on a performance, Probie."

"Better you than me," Tim said, fervently. "I would never want to do something like that."

"That's because you're not a performer."

"No, I'm not. I'd much rather be behind the scenes."

"Well, I won't suggest you. Let's get down and see what the boss has found."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

They joined up with Gibbs and went back to NCIS. Abby got the fingerprints and sequins and the other evidence for processing. Ducky was working on the autopsy. It was time to see where they were at.

"Captain James Hokansen. Officer in the Marine Corps," Tim said, flashing the photo up on the TV. "He joined up six years ago and was on the fast track from day one. It looks like he has every possible commendation. No black marks. Distinguished service."

"Family?" Gibbs asked.

"His father died last year. Heart attack. His mother lives in upstate New York. Two sisters. Both in New York."

"Alden Jacobs said that Captain Hokansen's father loved Elvis," Gibbs said.

"That would help explain how he got involved if this was his first time," Tony said.

He took a breath and decided to put his plan in action. He knew that Tim was unsure about the necessity. To be honest, Tony wasn't sure it was necessary, either, but it would be fun and it could lead to more information.

"Boss, I think it would be worth trying to have someone go undercover at the convention."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at Tony's obvious dissembling. Tony glanced at Tim who just gestured, letting Tony go on without help or hindrance.

"We know that someone was up there on the roof with Captain Hokansen," Tony said. "The sequins indicate that it was another impersonator. It'll be hard tracking them all down and that'll take time. If I'm back there, just another impersonator, I can look at the costumes, see if there's anyone with a bunch of missing sequins or even just take photos."

"You'll have to get a costume."

"Oh, I've got one, already," Tony said, hoping that there wouldn't be anything read into that.

The eyebrow went up again.

"It's a good one, Boss. Promise," Tony said, choosing to misconstrue what Gibbs was silently asking.

"You'd perform?"

"Of course! I can do that."

Gibbs looked at Tim.

"I'd be his backup, Boss," Tim said. "As long as I don't have to sing."

Gibbs was quiet for a few seconds, considering. Tony recognized that it was time to wait. Tim said nothing, either.

"All right. Call Jacobs and get it set up."

"On it, Boss!" Tony said, trying not to show his glee.

"McGee, get with Abby. Until he goes in, we see if we can find anything else. See if there's any reason for someone to hold a grudge."

"Does he owe money to anyone, involved in anything shady, got it, Boss," Tim said. He rushed off to the lab.

"You sure about this, DiNozzo?"

"Positive. It's been a while since I went undercover. I like it."

"Watch your back."

"I will."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ducky looked at the x rays he'd taken of Captain Hokansen.

"I dare say that you must have had no time to prepare yourself for the fall, Captain."

"It would only have taken him a few seconds," Jimmy said. "That's not much time even if he knew it was coming. Besides, what could he have done about it?"

"Perhaps nothing, Mr. Palmer, but this was sudden. He likely flailed in the air, but there was no time for much reorientation before impact. There are multiple skull fractures, broken vertebrae. All indicative of a fall from a great height."

"And plenty of hemorrhaging," Jimmy said. "He was definitely alive when he hit."

"Very good. Now, take these samples up to Abigail and we'll see if he was helped along, although I do have my doubts that it was necessary in this case."

Jimmy nodded and headed for the doors.

"And don't hang around up there, Mr. Palmer! We still have work to do!"

Jimmy just laughed and kept on his way.

Ducky looked back at Captain Hokansen.

"Well, Captain, you have not puzzled me one bit. The only question, beyond whether or not your blood will turn up anything valuable, is _who_ pushed you off the roof."

The doors opened again.

"That was very quick, Mr. Palmer."

"Not really," Gibbs said.

Ducky looked up.

"Ah, Jethro! Well, I can tell you with no prevarication that Captain James Hokansen died from blunt force trauma, that is, from impact with the sidewalk. He was alive when he fell. There are no indications of anything out of the ordinary, but I have Mr. Palmer taking a blood sample up to Abigail to test. Barring any surprises there, I think we have a simple case of a man being thrown off the rooftop."

"Not suicide?"

"Well, it's hard to tell that from the body alone, but the position of the body on impact seems to indicate movement, perhaps an attempt to fend off the inevitable. That generally is not the case with those who wish to end their lives. It is unfortunate that his costume was ruined. It was quite well made. Not so ostentatious as some, but he had taken care with it."

"You an Elvis fan, too?"

Ducky chuckled. "Not particularly, but it would be difficult to avoid him. Like him or not, his music and style had a large impact on American music...and British music for that matter. I believe it was John Lennon who stated that, without Elvis, the Beatles could not have existed. That's why he has had such a long-lasting presence. Not only was his music the beginning of rock-and-roll, but he was a performer, and a memorable one."

"Anything else?"

"Well, I'm often amazed at how prolific he was. It really is a shame that his flame burned out so quickly."

"About the case, Duck," Gibbs said.

"Oh, of course. Well, no surprises. Unless there were drugs, and I don't anticipate them, this man is a victim of murder. No indications of smoking or hard drinking. He seemed very healthy as one would expect of an officer in the Marine Corps."

Gibbs nodded and walked out. Ducky returned to the body.

"While I would not consider myself a _fan_ as such, I do appreciate his music. Were I little younger, Captain, I'd give you a performance. However, I think I'll keep that to myself."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Do we have anything, Abby?" Tim asked.

"Tim, I already told you that you'd know when I know. Calm down! It's the first day! Why are you in such a hurry?"

"No reason."

Abby turned away from her computer and widened her eyes.

"Now, I know that you're lying to me. Tim, you're such a bad liar!"

"It's nothing. I just want to get this case solved."

"Because?"

"Because I want to move on to other things."

"Like what?" Abby asked, giving Tim a wide-eyed inquiring stare.

There was a ping.

"Is that the fingerprints?" Tim asked.

Abby turned back around.

"Don't think I've forgotten, Tim. We'll get back to it. Later. Sorry but none of the fingerprints are clear enough to get an ID. I might be able to clear one of these smudges up, but it's a long shot."

"Anything in the blood?"

"Not done yet. What about you?"

Tim sighed. "No black marks. No indications of any problems. No criminal record. His finances look fine. I don't see anything here that would give a reason for him to be killed."

"Except that he was competing for a pretty big cash prize against other Elvis impersonators."

"Yeah. I know." Tim looked at the data and then at Abby. "I know that people have killed for less. It just seems so silly to commit murder over a contest like this."

"You wouldn't say that if it was some kind of Star Trek convention."

"Yes, I would. It's still fiction."

"I'm just teasing, Tim."

There was another ding and Abby turned back.

"Aaaaaand no drugs."

The door to the lab opened.

"Ah, Gibbs! Perfect timing, as usual."

"What have you found?" Gibbs asked, looking at Tim first.

"Nothing, Boss. Nothing to give any reason for someone to kill him. If he's hidden something, it's hidden really well."

Gibbs looked at Abby.

"The fingerprints are too smudged, but I'm going to see if I can get any readable partials. No drugs in his blood."

"Is Tony going undercover?" Tim asked. "Did Mr. Jacobs okay it?"

Gibbs nodded.

"When is he going in?"

"Tonight. Mr. Jacobs said he had space for him to perform tomorrow."

"But when has Tony ever passed up a chance to have some fun?" Abby asked with a grin.

Gibbs just raised an eyebrow.

"On my way, Boss," Tim said and hurried out, relieved that he'd got away before Abby could remember that she wanted to quiz him.

He wasn't exactly looking forward to spending the next few days at an Elvis convention, but he supposed there were worse things.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Tony was excited about the chance he now had to hang out. He wouldn't forget that he had a job to do, but that didn't mean that he couldn't enjoy himself while he was working.

"Are you sure you can blend in, Agent DiNozzo?" Alden asked, anxiously. "Some of these people are really intense. They prove that the word _fan_ comes from _fanatic_."

"I promise, Mr. Jacobs. I'm very good at what I do. I won't ruin your convention."

"You have a good costume?"

Tony grinned.

"Yes. Absolutely."

Alden took a deep breath and nodded.

"I'll trust you, of course, and I do want to know what happened. I'm just also worried about losing all this work."

Tony gave his best smile.

"Trust me."

"Okay. You'll be performing tomorrow night, but you're welcome to be backstage, talking to the other participants. Many of them have been here every night to see the competition. I encourage them to be in costume when they're on the premises, although I don't require it. It gives people a chance to see more Elvis."

"All right. Thanks for cooperating, Mr. Jacobs. I understand that this is important to you."

Alden nodded and then let Tony head back into the changing room. He smiled as he saw the Elvises walking around. These weren't just Halloween costumes. These were people trying to _be_ the King.

Tony saw one man standing next to the locker that Alden had assigned him. He decided to start feeling people out.

"Hey," he said. "I'm Tony."

"New guy, huh? I'm Gerard," the man said with a thick accent.

Tony raised a questioning eyebrow. "You're an Elvis impersonator?"

Gerard laughed. "I can't get rid of my accent when I talk, but when I sing, I'm just as Elvis as the next guy."

"I believe you."

"And you?"

"Just another fan," he said and opened the locker.

He stowed his costume and accessories.

"You see any of the competition?"

"Not yet. Any frontrunners?"

"Well, you heard about the one who fell off the roof?"

Tony nodded solemnly.

"I would have put him way out in front. We all can sing, but I'd say that he had the soul."

"I'm sorry I missed him," Tony said, honestly. There was something about hearing the ones who were really devoted to getting it right. It wasn't about being the best impersonator. It was about letting Elvis shine.

"Yeah. Now, there's no clear winner, yet. There are still two more nights. When are you singing?"

"Tomorrow."

"Last day, huh?"

"Yeah. It worked better with my schedule, anyway."

"You work in DC?"

"Yep. Federal."

Gerard chuckled. "How many of your coworkers know about this?"

"None," Tony said.

"Me, too."

"Do you work in DC?"

"New York, but I'm..."

"French."

Gerard laughed again. "Québécois, actually."

"Montreal?" Tony guessed.

"No, but you won't have heard of my little hometown even if you know of other places in Quebec besides Montreal. Most people learn English and French together, but my parents worried that I would be corrupted and I didn't learn English well until I was older. Then, I lived in France for a number of years before finally settling in New York. My accent is permanent."

"So what got you into Elvis?"

"Las Vegas, believe it or not."

"Vegas?"

"Yes. I saw a performer there and he was very good. I loved the music and I looked it up when I got home. It was like I discovered a whole new world and Elvis was my guide. What about you?"

"I love the glitz and I'm kind of a performer myself. It's a natural fit, and it's just fun. I don't take it too seriously, but I do want to do my best."

"Good. We need more who are looking at this as fun."

"Are there some who aren't?"

"Yes. Just a few, but they're very intense. It's off-putting, really. No one wants to hang out with them."

"Who are they...so that I know who to avoid?"

Gerard smiled and looked around. "Only one is here right now. You see the man in the costume with the red sequins on the sleeves?"

Tony nodded.

"That's Willis Dayton. He practically declared that he was the winner from the moment he stepped in here. He performs tonight. There are two others who aren't here who are much the same."

"Are they any good?"

Gerard nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. They are. Two have already performed, and they did very well."

"Ah, those kind. The annoying _and_ talented," Tony said.

"Exactly."

Tony continued talking to Gerard for a few minutes, genuinely enjoying his company.

"Are you singing tonight?" he asked, finally.

"Yes."

"Can I see your costume?"

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Tony grinned.

"All right."

Gerard brought his out, and Tony gave it an admiring look. It was a classic costume modeled on what Elvis had worn at his Aloha from Hawaii concert. It was white, covered in beading and sequins. Gerard was one of those people who made sure the costume was perfect. Tony could see that he had been careful to get it right. He even had the eagle, and Tony would swear that it was just like the original.

"Nice," he said.

"Thanks. Took me a year to get it perfect. I sewed on every one of those sequins and beads. They'll never come off."

Tony smiled and was inwardly relieved. He couldn't see any sign of missing sequins and there had been enough of them that it would be pretty obvious if there were frayed threads.

"All right. Show me yours."

Tony nodded. He had wanted to be different with his. Everyone did the white with sequins. He had chosen a different look. He had got as close as he could to a reproduction of Elvis' gold lamé jacket, pairing it with a purple shirt, some classy pinstriped slacks and the dancing shoes that made it possible for Elvis to do those trademark moves. He had considered the whole gold tuxedo, but since Elvis himself hadn't seemed to like it all that much, he preferred to follow the King. He pulled his out of the bag. Gerard nodded in appreciation.

"Wow. Gold, huh? Haven't seen anyone wearing the gold here. Nice choice."

"Thank you."

"I have to go warm up."

"What are you singing?"

"I do his first big hit."

"Heartbreak Hotel."

"Precisely."

"Hey, what did the one who fell sing?"

"'Jailhouse Rock'. Perfectly."

Then, Gerard headed off to prepare himself to sing. Tony circulated and talked with some of the other impersonators. They all agreed that there were three of the competitors who were taking all this too seriously. Besides Dayton (Jailhouse Rock), there was Marcus Spiegel (Fools Rush In) and Aron Flores (Blue Suede Shoes). He looked around at the different costumes, knowing that Tim would be scanning through the videos made of the events to see if he could find someone with the right sequins and eliminating those with the wrong ones.

There were a _lot_ of white jumpsuits. It was just a matter of which particular version they were doing. A few had the other colors. There were one or two black jumpsuits. One wearing blue, one red. It was a menagerie of Elvis.

Tony was having the time of his life.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim spent most of the afternoon going through the performance videos in the office Alden had set up, listening to more Elvis than he had ever listened to in his entire life. While he didn't understand the obsession, the music wasn't bad. He was grudgingly impressed with how well most of the impersonators sang. This wasn't an Elvis-focused karaoke. They really were good singers.

He even took the time to watch Captain Hokansen perform, and from an outsider's point of view, he was probably the best of the bunch so far. 'Jailhouse Rock' had a really catchy tune and it was clear that Captain Hokansen was enjoying himself. His costume wasn't the most amazing, but he had the moves down. It was no surprise that he'd won the day he'd sung.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Tim said, not really paying attention.

"Should be more alert than that, Probie."

Tim turned around.

"Hey. Should you be back here? Might blow your cover."

"I checked before I came. It's fine. Have you found anything?"

Tony walked over and sat down.

"Not really. I have a list of people you might want to check more closely, if you can. A lot of the costumes look the same from the position of the camera."

"Figures. Well, I have some names for _you_."

Tim looked away from the video. "Oh, really? Who?"

"Three guys who are apparently taking the competition way more seriously than they should."

"Have you talked to them?"

"Nope. Only one has been here tonight. He's performing. Willis Dayton. The other two are Marcus Spiegel and Aron Flores."

Tim looked through his notes. "I do have Spiegel on my list, but Flores' costume is black with gold beading. Nothing that matches the sequins you found on the roof."

"Well, that's something. Anything else you can tell me?"

Tim smiled. "Yeah, you're missing the sideburns."

Tony chuckled. "Can't put them on yet! I'm not singing until tomorrow!"

"I'm going to be out in the crowd watching tonight _and_ tomorrow."

"Then, you'll really see a performance. Just you wait. I'll be in and out tonight."

"I'm here when you are, just remember that."

Tony patted Tim on the back.

"Will do. Enjoy the video, but the show starts in about an hour."

"I'll be out there. Don't worry."

"We'll convert you to the King in no time, Probie."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Don't let anyone see you come out of here."

"Have a little faith, McGee. I know what I'm doing."

"Yeah, that's what you always say."

"And I'm always right." Tony gave a winning smile and left.

Tim sighed but smiled and turned back to his work. After a few minutes, his phone started vibrating. He pulled it out.

 _Well?_

He grimaced and replied.

 _Better cancel. I think I'll be stuck over the weekend, even if things go well._

He waited for a minute or two and then got another text.

 _You sure?_

One more reply.

 _Yeah._

There were no more texts. Tim knew not to expect them. He just closed out the videos, sent the list of people to check on to Abby and then went out to start circulating with the people at the convention. He saw a few glimpses of Tony, but they weren't interacting just to make sure that no one associated Tony with the investigation.

Tim was surprised at how many people were here on a Thursday night. Probably close to 500 were crowding around the stage. That wouldn't be a large number at a concert, but these were just Elvis impersonators, and as Alden had said, it was the first year.

Speaking of Alden, the older man came up on the stage.

"Welcome to the fourth night of competition! We're so glad that you've all come! Another ten performers are here to get your applause and your vote! Remember that there is an additional competition for best costume, and all the competitors have more than one song they can perform if you want an encore! First up is Gerard Michaud!"

A lot of applause, and Tim watched as a man came out, dressed in an elaborate costume. It was impressive. If he sang half as well as he looked, he'd win, hands down.

He had a guitar and jumped right into 'Heartbreak Hotel'.

" _Well, since my baby left me  
_ _I found a new place to dwell.  
_ _It's down at the end of Lonely Street  
_ _at Heartbreak Hotel."_

Tim smiled. There was a bit of an accent there that wasn't Elvis. It almost sounded French, which would fit with the name. He turned his attention to the crowd and circulated through it, all the while keeping his eye on the stage.

He hoped Tony was enjoying himself.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony grinned as Gerard performed. While he had claimed that he lost his accent when he sang, he wasn't quite right. It was definitely less pronounced, but Tony could hear the French touch.

" _Well, the bellhop's tears keep flowin',  
_ _and the desk clerk's dressed in black.  
_ _Well they been so long on Lonely Street  
_ _They ain't ever gonna look back.  
_ _You make me so lonely baby,  
_ _I get so lonely,  
_ _I get so lonely I could die."_

He enjoyed seeing the performance, but he also was keeping his eyes and ears open. Then, he noticed Willis Dayton in his full costume. He certainly had the lip curl down, only it was disdain, which wasn't Elvis. Still, his job wasn't to be Elvis. It was to find a killer, and from his perspective, if they couldn't find anything in Captain Hokansen's life to explain his death, it made sense that it would be one of the competitors, and Dayton seemed like a good place to start.

Tony walked over.

"Nice costume," he said, looking it over carefully. "You performing tonight?"

Dayton looked at him.

"You competing?" he asked.

"Yeah. I don't sing until tomorrow."

"You any good?"

"I'm all right."

"Have to be better than all right, if you want to win," he said. "That one doesn't have a chance. He sounds like he belongs on the streets of Paris."

"I don't think his accent is that bad."

"Oh, please. The man chose Elvis' first big hit and he's mangling it. Elvis sounded nothing like him. Better hope you're better than that. The only reason he's not being booed off the stage is because the audience is polite. This is an insult to the King."

"So you're better?"

"Wouldn't be hard to be, but yes. I'm winning tonight," Dayton said and then stalked away.

"Well, nice meeting you," Tony said, quietly.

There was an annoying guy. Tony would put his money on Dayton as the killer, except for one thing: his costume didn't have the right color sequins and Tony couldn't see any place where a patch of sequins was missing.

He turned back to the stage as Gerard finished and came off to loud applause.

"You play the guitar really well," Tony said. "I didn't know you were going to accompany yourself."

"Only half," Gerard said. "I still had backup. I was very nervous with all those people out there. More nervous than I thought I would be."

"You sounded good," Tony said.

"Thank you, Tony. I'll see you later."

Tony went back to watch the competition. No one really stood out, but a couple were asked for encores. He watched with particular interest as Dayton took his turn.

His costume wasn't nearly as good as Gerard's, but it was adequate.

" _The warden threw a party in the county jail.  
_ _The prison band was there and they began to wail.  
_ _The band was jumpin' and the joint began to swing.  
_ _You should've heard those knocked out jailbirds sing."_

Tony was almost disappointed with how good Dayton was. He was _excellent_. The effort he hadn't put into his costume he _had_ with his singing. He would win tonight unless the last performer was outstanding.

" _Let's rock, everybody, let's rock.  
_ _Everybody in the whole cell block  
_ _was dancin' to the Jailhouse Rock."_

He was called on to do an encore and the rest of the night was uneventful. Dayton won the evening, no contest. Alden reminded everyone of the events going on during the day on Friday and that the final day of round one would happen with the final sing-off happening on Saturday. He also reminded the competitors of the costume contest and that, if they wanted to be in the running, they had to be there on Saturday in costume to be judged.

Gerard waved good-bye to Tony and headed out.

Tony hung around until the last of the Elvises were gone, gave a look around the building and then headed home himself.

Not a waste, but nothing conclusive as yet.

...but that meant he could perform tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Where are we at?" Gibbs asked, the next morning.

"We have five impersonators so far who have costumes with the right color sequins," Tim said. "One of them is Marcus Spiegel who Tony said is one of the guys taking the competition too seriously."

"And Willis Dayton is out," Tony said. "Costume only has red sequins. I haven't seen anyone missing sequins on their costumes, but I've only been there one day."

"There was a partial fingerprint on one of the sequins," Abby said. "It's impossible to verify, but it does fit the pattern of Captain Hokansen's prints, and we know the sequins didn't come from _his_ costume."

Tim put the photo of Marcus Spiegel up on the screen. "Spiegel is a CPA in Alexandria. Divorced two years ago. His ex-wife got full custody of their daughter...and a restraining order against Spiegel. He's had two rounds of anger management classes and one incident of road rage from five years ago."

"Anything recently?" Tony asked.

"Nope. The last mark in his records is from his divorce."

"He wasn't there last night, but all the competitors are supposed to be there on Saturday."

"Well, Spiegel won his night, anyway," Tim said. "So he'll have to be there."

"Unless he's left the building!" Abby said with a triumphant grin.

Tim grimaced at the bad pun.

"I've got a better one," Tony said. "I tried to book tickets to an Elvis concert on the phone but it keeps telling me to press one for the money and two for the show."

Abby laughed.

"How about this one? What would Elvis be doing if he was alive right now?"

"What?"

"Working?" Gibbs asked, pointedly.

"Okay. I'll tell you later," Abby said.

"So who are the others?" Tony asked.

Tim put the pictures up on the screen. "Two of them performed on the first day, and one on the second. Dallin Mason, a cop from Suffolk. Newly-married, only been on the job for two years. No black marks anywhere that I can see."

"Any connection to Captain Hokansen?" Gibbs asked.

"Nothing on record. They aren't from the same place. Hokansen was about 20 years older than Mason. I didn't see any sign of him there last night or on the videos from Wednesday. Spiegel wasn't there last night, but he was the other days. Then, there's John-Michael Dorian. He's a retired construction worker from North Carolina. Sixty-five years old. Been married 40 years. Lots of grandkids. He's been there with his wife every night."

"They all have the right sequins?"

"Yep, but since they performed before the murder, I don't know if they're missing any from their costumes right now."

"I guess that's my job. I'll keep my eyes and ears open."

"And your mouth for when you sing," Abby said, patting Tony on the cheek. "I may have to take off work early just to hear you."

"I'm sure you'll be busy, Abbs," Gibbs said.

"Only if you make me be," she replied sweetly.

Gibbs just rolled his eyes.

"McGee, you're with me. We'll check on the competitors and talk to Jacobs about them. Tony, you'd better be ready."

"Of course, Boss! I was _born_ ready," Tony said, feeling just a little bit excited for the coming performance.

He'd never admit that, though.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"I'm going to be excited to see you perform," Gerard said.

Tony chuckled. "You may actually regret it."

"No. I think you'll be amazing. You look like him...except for the lip curl. You don't quite have that."

"He had pouty lips," Tony said.

"He sure did. Good luck."

"Thanks!"

Tony gave himself one last look in the mirror. He'd got his wig and sideburns done to perfection. The costume fit perfectly. He loved the gold jacket, paired with the purple shirt. He thought it was perfect, especially for the stylish Elvis Presley instead of just the performer. He'd been inspired by a photo of Elvis holding a microphone, looking like he was making love to it. That was the Elvis that Tony was trying to channel.

Then, he heard his name announced (or rather his undercover name) and he headed out to the stage.

He looked at the large crowd which was cheering for him to begin. He looked over and nodded to the sound person.

The music started and he got into character.

Elvis was back in the building.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

There were a _lot_ more people here tonight than there had been the night before, Tim decided. He kept his eyes open, but he was in agreement that it was likely to be one of the other competitors. He was keeping near to the stage, not in the back, but close by in case Tony needed help with anything.

Then, he saw Tony come out on stage, and against his will, Tim was impressed. Tony hadn't spared any expense and the details were great.

Then, the music started and Tony began to sing.

" _A little less conversation, a little more action please  
_ _All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me  
_ _A little more bite and a little less bark  
_ _A little less fight and a little more spark  
_ _Close your mouth and open up your heart and, baby, satisfy me  
_ _Satisfy me, baby."_

Again, Tim was impressed...and so was the crowd. They were definitely getting into it.

"This is the one!"

Tim turned in surprise and saw Faith standing beside him.

"This is the one I was hoping would be here. I just got here in time to hear him start. I didn't hear the announcement."

Tim furrowed his brow in confusion.

"What?"

"The Elvis impersonator I've seen before. This is him. I'm glad I came tonight."

Tim looked up at Tony performing.

 _Come on, baby, I'm tired of talking  
_ _Grab your coat and let's start walking  
_ _Come on, come on  
_ _Come on, come on  
_ _Come on, come on  
_ _Don't procrastinate, don't articulate  
_ _Girl, it's getting late, gettin' upset, waitin' around_

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Absolutely."

"Commander, that's _Tony_."

Faith looked at him in something akin to shock before she got a speculative expression on her face.

"He's good," she said.

"Yeah..."

The song ended with a stereotypical Elvis pose and the crowd erupted in applause, calling for an encore. Tony was clearly enjoying himself.

"I think I can oblige," he said in a great Elvis imitation. He gestured off stage and another song started.

 _You know I can be found,  
_ _sitting home all alone,  
_ _If you can't come around,  
_ _at least please telephone.  
_ _Don't be cruel to a heart that's true._

"He's definitely winning tonight, unless you heard someone better," Faith said, still staring at the stage.

"Not so far," Tim said, honestly.

Tony was so popular that it looked like people might want a second encore, but that wasn't allowed by the rules of the competition; so after he finished, he bowed and hurried off. Faith moved away after that, but Tim was a little bit flabbergasted. Tony was her favorite impersonator? He'd never even _intimated_ that he had done this kind of thing before, let alone often enough that he could be someone's favorite.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony ran off the stage unable to keep from smiling. That had gone _very_ well. He knew when he did a good job and he had done an _excellent_ job. Probably the best he'd _ever_ done.

Gerard was standing there with some of the other competitors and he was applauding.

Tony laughed and bowed.

"Bravo!" Gerard said, enthusiastically. "That was one of the best performances I have _ever_ seen."

"Thanks," Tony said, feeling more touched than he had thought he would. "The crowd helped."

"Oh, it did _not_ help me. Only to feel more nervous than I was before."

"I do better with an audience."

"Obviously."

Gerard looked over toward where Spiegel was standing, not looking very happy.

"I hope you win tonight. You'll give those grumps a run for their money. I hope you win tomorrow," he said in a low voice.

"I don't know that I'll win the whole thing," Tony said, but even though this was just for the investigation, the idea of winning made him excited.

"You could," he said, "but don't tell anyone I said so."

Tony grinned.

"Your secret is safe with me."

The rest of the competition passed without incident, and then, Alden compiled the votes and called the night's competitors out onto the stage.

"All right! The last night of competition before tomorrow's final!" he said. "We had some great performances tonight, but the winner by a landslide is..."

There was a collective inhale of relative silence.

"...Tony Rossi!"

There was thunderous applause and Tony stepped out to take a bow.

"Tomorrow, we'll have our final competition with the winners from each night. I hope you'll all come and cheer them on. Also, don't forget the costume judging which is a separate award from the performance award. Thank you for your support and we'll see you tomorrow!"

Another burst of applause and then it was back to the dressing room to change into normal clothes and leave the allure of the King.

As he left to meet up with Tim, Tony couldn't help but congratulate himself on being able to do this while still working. How much better could it get?

"Over here, Tony."

Tony saw Tim waiting for him, but there was a strange expression on his face, as if he was trying to get his mind around something very difficult.

"What's up, McGee?" Tony asked as he got in the car. "You look like you're thinking way too hard. You figure something out?"

"Yeah, but not about the case," Tim said and started driving.

"What's that?"

"Commander Coleman was here, tonight."

"Oh, and did she like my performance?" Tony asked, grinning.

"Actually, she more than liked it."

"What does _that_ mean?"

Tim stopped at a red light and looked at Tony.

"She said that _you_ were the impersonator she's been hoping to see at this convention. The one she said she's seen perform at other functions. She said that was _you_. Tony...you're an Elvis impersonator?"

Well, that explained the expression.

"That was what you were hoping to get leave for, isn't it? You were hoping to come here and perform!"

Tony had hoped to keep this particular part of his life a secret. He wasn't ashamed of it, but, well, after all the grief he'd given Tim about some of his hobbies and the time he spent on them, it might seem slightly hypocritical that he was so into this.

"Why do it?" Tim asked.

"Because I like it."

"Yeah...and?"

"Why does there have to be an _and_? I like doing it. Isn't that enough?"

"Except that you have made fun of me up and down for putting on a jacket with leather patches on the sleeves and for having a pipe. You acted like that made me the most ridiculous person in the world. You dress up like another person and perform on stage! So I think I'm justified in wondering why you want to do this and why _this_ isn't strange or ridiculous when what _I_ do is?"

"Honestly, McGee. I just enjoy doing it. There's nothing deep about it. I like the music, and it's fun to dress up," Tony said.

Tim looked at him again and then turned back to the road. Tony could tell that he wasn't all that impressed by the answer...not that he blamed Tim for that. It was a cop out. They both knew it. It was silent for a few minutes. Then, Tony sighed.

"...and maybe I remember watching some Elvis movies with my mom when I was a kid. I barely remember when he died, but I remember my mom showing me Elvis. He had it all, you know. Talent, charisma, success, fame, admirers...and he lost all that, died way too young. He changed music in America, almost single-handedly. There were others involved, but still, Elvis started the change. It's a way of keeping that same spirit alive, not forgetting what he did."

Tim was quiet in reply, but Tony figured that he couldn't really describe it any better than that.

"So...how did I look up there?" he asked, finally, seeing if Tim had got over his irritation and surprise.

Tim smiled a little. "Commander Coleman was impressed."

"Was she?"

"Definitely."

"Hmmm..."

"You sounded good, Tony."

Tony grinned. "Thank you. Thank you very much," he said in his best Elvis impersonation.

Tim just rolled his eyes, but he smiled.

"So what's got _your_ panties in a bunch?"

"What did you just say?" Tim asked.

"You know what I mean. You're not ever the life of the party, but you're not usually so snippy. What's up?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah, right. You're way more annoyed by things than you should be, than you usually are."

"I just had plans for the weekend and I had to cancel them. Again."

"Romantic plans?"

"Maybe. And this is the third weekend in a row that something has come up. I think Delilah's going to start thinking that I'm really trying to avoid her."

"Well, I promise that we'll finish with this case this weekend."

"Oh, really? Well, then, why don't you just finish with it right now?" Tim asked.

"Ha ha. Tomorrow, they'll be doing the costume judging. Everyone who wants to participate in that will be there. In costume. No real hints yet, but I'm sure that we'll see the guilty party tomorrow. I really think that Hokansen was killed because of this competition, and the killer will be there."

"Will you even notice?"

"Oh, Probie, I'm hurt!"

Tim chuckled.

"Just don't forget that you're there to do a job, not just be Elvis."

"The nice thing is that I can do both! So you'll get your weekend off."

"Promise?"

"I promise that you will get your weekend off next week. Cross my heart and hope to die."

Tony suited actions to words and they headed back to make their plans for the last night, hoping that this would solve their case.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Saturday night came, and Tony was back in costume, along with 40 other Elvises. A few hadn't come for the final night, but the people they were concerned about were present. It was always a little disconcerting to see so many people dressed as the same person. Some did it with more flair than others, but so far, Tony hadn't seen anyone with a better costume than Gerard.

He was trying to find someone who had missing sequins, but right now, everyone looked top notch. He looked around and spotted Marcus Spiegel. He was at one of the mirrors, checking his costume. Tony headed over with the pretense of retouching his sideburns.

"You're performing, tonight?" Tony asked.

"Yeah," Marcus said, tersely.

"Cool. Me, too. I'm Tony."

Spiegel looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah," Tony said, pretending to misunderstand his expression. "We're all Elvis, here, right? But this is just fun, and I'm not forgetting who I really am. You?"

Marcus shrugged. For a moment, Tony thought he was being blown off by someone like Dayton. Then, Marcus sighed a little.

"I'd rather be someone else other than myself, to be honest. This is about the only way I get to escape."

"Elvis didn't exactly have the best end, you know," Tony said.

Marcus shrugged. "Yeah, but who pretends to be Elvis at the end of his career? No one. You're not dressed that way. I'm not. No one does. They focus on when he was at his height, not when he was on his way out. That's how he should be remembered, anyway." He adjusted his belt and looked at Tony directly. "I don't care whether I win or not. I just want to be someone else for a while. So for tonight, I'm Elvis, and then, tomorrow, I can go back to being Marcus for another stretch."

Marcus walked away from Tony, leaving him wondering about how his outlook had changed. Actually, Tony could see how that might have happened. His record read like someone who was a hothead. He lost his family, never remarried. Maybe that had been his wake-up call, but too late to do anything about it. What had really come from this conversation, however, was that it didn't look like Marcus was someone who would be gunning for the competition. He was intense because he wanted to escape and he didn't want to be pulled out of his fantasy when he didn't have to be.

Mentally, Tony scratched Marcus Spiegel off the list of possible killers. Aron Flores was still in his black costume that didn't fit what they were looking for. There were a few others who showed up with sequins. Tony made a point of mingling with them, but every time, he was seeing them as unlikely culprits. He started to worry that he was wrong and it wasn't about the competition. Maybe Tim wouldn't get his weekend off, after all.

Then, it was time for the final performances. The five Elvis finalists would perform, one after another. Then, after a short break, it would be the costume judging, followed by the announcement of the winner.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim knew that Gibbs was in the crowd somewhere, circulating around like he was. If the killer was really one of the impersonators, this was the time to find him. So far, nothing had stood out with anyone, but if they could get a hint of which way to go, that would help them focus on fewer people.

Alden came out on the stage and got everyone's attention.

"All right! This is the last night of the convention and it's the final for the performers who chose to participate. We're down to the five winners, one from each night of the convention! They will perform in a random order. If you would like an encore, each is allowed one encore and no more. So if you like them, show it by your applause!"

He paused while the crowd cheered.

"Then, while the votes are being tallied, we'll have the costume judging and winner. The last event will be the announcement of the winner who will receive $10,000 and a chance to perform at Elvis Week in Memphis!"

Another burst of applause.

"Are you ready?"

More applause.

Tim could see that Alden was enjoying himself, but he wished that he'd just get on with it.

"The order of the performers will be as follows: Aron Flores, Tony Rossi, Marcus Spiegel, Larson Christiansen, and last, Willis Dayton."

More cheering.

"All the singers will be performing one of the King's many number one hits. Aron Flores will perform 'All Shook Up'. Tony Rossi will perform 'Heartbreak Hotel'. Marcus Spiegel will perform 'Can't Help Falling in Love'. Larson Christiansen will perform 'Hound Dog'. Willis Dayton will perform 'Suspicious Minds'."

Tim watched as Aron Flores took his place on the stage, still in his black and gold jumpsuit. Not the color they wanted. He performed to enthusiastic applause and then did "Teddy Bear" for an encore. He was good, but he didn't have the same spark that some of the other performers had. Then, Tim couldn't help but watch as Tony came out to do his number.

" _Well, since my baby left me,  
_ _I found a new place to dwell.  
_ _It's down at the end of lonely street  
_ _at Heartbreak Hotel.  
_ _You make me so lonely baby,  
_ _I get so lonely,  
_ _I get so lonely I could die."_

Tim smiled to himself as he watched Tony get flirty with the audience. Whatever else one could say for Tony, he was definitely a performer. He even had some pretty good moves. When he finished, the applause was long and sustained. Tim suddenly thought that Tony might actually win the whole thing. That would be a little trippy.

There were calls for an encore and Tony seemed happy to oblige. The song that started up was faster and more peppy than "Heartbreak Hotel" had been. Tim didn't recognize it at first, not until the chorus.

" _Your kisses lift me higher  
_ _Like the sweet song of a choir  
_ _You light my morning sky  
_ _With burning love  
_ _Ooh, ooh, ooh,  
_ _I feel my temperature rising  
_ _Help me, I'm flaming  
_ _I must be a hundred and nine  
_ _Burning, burning, burning  
_ _And nothing can cool me  
_ _I just might turn into smoke  
_ _But I feel fine."_

Tim laughed a little as Tony echoed himself while singing. He was definitely playing to the audience and they loved him.

" _I'm just a hunk, a hunk of burning love  
_ _Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love."_

As Tony finished his final flourish, Tim thought he caught a glimpse of Faith Coleman cheering for him as enthusiastically as anyone else. _That_ image was bizarre enough that he turned his attention back onto his job. The crowd was actually calling for another encore, but only one was allowed and Tony ran off the stage.

Marcus Spiegel came out next, and before he started, he paused and spoke.

"I know we're all here to honor Elvis Presley," he said, "but I wanted to say one thing before the music gets going. I lost the love of my life a few years ago because I was too stupid to hold onto her. Music is what saved me. This song is important to me, not just as an Elvis fan, which I know we all are, but as a man."

He gestured and the music started. Everyone applauded as he began, but it was a more subdued applause. Tony's performance had been fun and exciting. This was obviously more serious, and the song itself was more solemn.

" _Wise men say only fools rush in  
_ _but I can't help falling in love with you  
_ _Shall I stay  
_ _would it be a sin  
_ _If I can't help falling in love with you."_

Everyone swayed in time to the music, and when he finished, there was a long, loud applause. He got an encore, and performed "Are You Lonesome Tonight?", another more solemn hit. He received applause and went offstage.

Lucas Christiansen was the one who had replaced Captain Hokansen on his night, and he seemed more nervous than he should as he sang "Hound Dog". He did get the encore, but Tim could tell it was more out of kindness rather than because he had been spectacular. He sang "Don't Be Cruel" which happened to be the B-side of "Hound Dog", both songs having reached number one. Then, he hurried off the stage.

The final performance was from Willis Dayton, and Tim was surprised when he came out. He wasn't wearing the same costume he'd had on when he performed before. This one wasn't a red-sequined jumpsuit. It was...

"White sequins. Lots of them," Tim said, quietly. Dayton's costume was a white jumpsuit with long tassles and a _lot_ of white sequins. It was easy to see how something like that could lose a few, especially in a violent altercation that led to murder. While Dayton was performing Tim started looking around for Gibbs, but it was really hard to get through the crowds who were obviously enjoying his singing.

He couldn't see Gibbs at all, and finally, he pulled out his phone and called.

" _We can't go on together  
_ _With suspicious minds  
_ _And we can't build our dreams  
_ _On suspicious minds."_

"Boss, you see Dayton?"

" _Yes. Head backstage."_

"Right."

Tim turned and made his way back toward the stage.

" _When honey, you know  
_ _I've never lied to you  
_ _Mmm yeah, yeah."_

The crowd burst into applause. Tim just could not get through them. He barely heard Dayton's next song. He finally went out of the main room and ran around to the back, hoping that he wouldn't be late.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"I'm glad he's wearing his original costume," Gerard said.

Tony looked up.

"Huh?"

"Yeah, Willis isn't a nice guy, but his original costume was much better than what he was wearing on Thursday. I can't figure out why he changed it."

Tony walked over and looked out on the stage. Sure enough, that was a different costume.

White. With white sparkly sequins.

Just like he'd found on the roof.

"Hey, Gerard, I'll be right back," Tony said.

"You're going to miss the costume judging."

"Oh, you're a lock for it. The rest of us pale by comparison. I'll be back to see you win!"

Tony hurried back to the lockers to get his phone. He hoped that Gibbs and Tim had seen Dayton already.

He opened the locker and looked for his phone. There were hundreds of people in the audience and he wasn't going to try and pick out Tim and Gibbs among them all.

He pulled out his phone and dialed. Tim answered on the first ring and didn't even give him a chance to talk.

" _Tony, did you see Dayton's new costume?"_

"Yeah. It's his _old_ costume. That's what he was wearing at the _beginning_ of the week."

" _We didn't see him on the cameras, but...I guess that doesn't mean he wasn't there. A lot of these guys tend to look alike, you know."_

"It looks like we have another suspect," Tony said in a low voice.

" _We're headed back to you, right now."_

"Good."

Tony hung up and put his phone back in his locker. Then, he turned to get back to the stage. It wouldn't do to be missing for too long. As he turned, the door opened.

It was Willis Dayton.

"Hey. I heard you perform," Tony said. "You're good."

"So are you," Dayton said and stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind him.

Somehow, it didn't seem like a compliment. It sounded more like a threat.

"Thanks. Well, they should be getting the costume judging going soon. Even if Gerard is going to win, we should be there."

"I'll be there."

"Okay?"

Dayton started to walk closer to him. Tony knew that this was not good, but he could hope that Tim and Gibbs got to him soon. He knew they were on their way. It was just a matter of keeping Dayton from trying to kill him.

"I'm winning this."

"Well, that's for the audience to decide, isn't it?"

"You're my only competition."

"There are three other guys."

"I'm better than they are...but I might not be better than you."

"Come on. It's just for fun."

"Maybe for you, it's just fun. This is my life."

"You're not Elvis," Tony said.

"But I could be."

"No, you couldn't," Tony said. "Elvis is dead."

"The original, but that doesn't mean there can't be another one."

"Well, maybe so, but you're pretty much nuts, you know."

 _Come on, guys. I'm running out of time, here._

Dayton pulled out a gun with a silencer.

"Hokansen was my only competition. Now, he's gone. You're the only one left. I'll win before anyone sees you dead."

He raised the gun, eyes wild, and Tony thought that it was rather irritating that he was about to die dressed like Elvis. He liked the guy's music, but he didn't want this to be his final look. There was nowhere to escape.

Then, the door behind Dayton opened and Tim and Gibbs were there, guns out.

"Drop it, Dayton!" Tim ordered.

Dayton spun around, gun still raised.

"Drop it," Gibbs said. "We won't ask again."

"If I don't?"

"We shoot you," Gibbs said.

"I'm Elvis," Dayton said. "The King lives!"

"Elvis is dead and you can join him if you want to."

Dayton dropped the gun and Tim moved in to cuff him while Gibbs looked on. Tony let out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, guys. I really didn't want to die looking like this."

Tim paused before he forced Dayton out of the room, reading him his Miranda rights.

"Look fine to me, Mr. Presley."

"Ha. Very funny."

Tim left with Dayton in tow.

"Well, Boss? What now?" Tony asked, hoping that he could see who won, at least.

"The night's not over yet, DiNozzo," Gibbs said and gestured toward the stage.

Tony grinned.

"No, it isn't."

He hurried back to the stage in time to walk on with the other Elvises. No one had seen the altercation and Tim had apparently got Dayton out a back door. He saw Gibbs talk to Alden Jacobs, most likely telling him that Dayton had been arrested. Alden looked concerned but then, he smiled and nodded.

Tony stood with the Elvises, but he knew that Gerard was going to win. His costume was far and away the best of all the participants. Everyone knew it. Still, the crowd applauded for everyone. Alden had set up an online voting for the costume competition and the numbers were projected on a large screen to the side of the stage.

As Tony had thought, Gerard's number zoomed up higher and higher. Tony was surprised to see his own number not at the bottom. He had figured that the lack of jumpsuit-ness would make him invisible in the midst of the others. He wouldn't catch Gerard up, but he was happy with his showing.

"Two minutes left to vote!" Alden announced. "Vote for your favorite!"

The last minute vanished like nothing, and everyone could see who had won.

"And the winner of the costume competition, by a landslide, is Gerard Michaud!"

Tony applauded loudly with the others as Gerard walked up to collect his prize from Alden. He hadn't been the best of the singers, but no one could doubt his devotion to getting the costume right.

"Don't bow, Gerard," Alden said. "Give us a pose!"

Gerard did a classic Elvis pose and got another ovation.

"All right, now we have what you've all been waiting for. The winner of the Elvis impersonation competition. The lucky winner will get 10,000 dollars and a chance to perform at the Elvis Week in Memphis!"

More applause.

"Let's get one last look at our finalists. Unfortunately, Willis Dayton cannot be here, but here are the others. Aron Flores!"

Applause.

"Tony Rossi!"

More applause, and Tony liked to think that it was louder than it had been for Aron Flores.

"Marcus Spiegel!"

A sustained applause as they remembered his little speech.

"And Lance Christiansen!"

Applause for the less-experienced performer.

"There can only be one winner, and I have the results right here!"

"Get on with it!" someone shouted from the audience.

Alden laughed and opened the envelope. He looked at it and he looked a little surprised, but then, he looked at the crowd.

"The winner is... Tony Rossi!"

Tony's eyes widened. He was shocked, but Gerard pushed him forward, and he walked up to Alden.

"Are you sure?" he asked in a low voice.

"The numbers don't lie. You were the winner by a mile," Alden said. "I was surprised, too, but enjoy it."

"Okay."

Tony turned and bowed.

"Why don't we have one last performance from our winner?" Alden asked.

The crowd cheered loudly. Tony grinned.

"I can do that. Any requests?"

"I think you should sing your first song," Alden said. "What do you think?"

The crowd cheered loudly.

The other impersonators cleared off the stage and Tony took position. The music started and he let himself fall into character. The thing about Elvis was how perfectly suave he always was. He had that perfect look and he always seemed so smooth, but real. That was what Tony tried to present when he sang.

" _A little less conversation, a little more action please  
_ _All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me  
_ _A little more bite and a little less bark  
_ _A little less fight and a little more spark  
_ _Close your mouth and open up your heart and, baby, satisfy me  
_ _Satisfy me, baby."_

Tony finished his song and then leaned into the microphone as the crowd cheered.

"Thank you. Thank you very much."

That was a perfect end to his day.


	7. Chapter 7: Epilogue

**Chapter 7: Epilogue**

 _Four days later..._

Willis Dayton confessed to killing Captain Hokansen and to attempting to kill Tony. He was being evaluated for mental competence because he seemed to think that his need to be Elvis was justification for committing murder. His costume had a patch that had been recently repaired, some frayed threads that the new sequins hadn't been able to hide. With all that, the case was a slam dunk.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"So what are you going to do with all that money, Tony?" Tim asked when things had finally calmed down.

"Ah...it didn't feel right to keep it," Tony admitted. "I decided to donate it to a charity."

"Are you going to perform at Elvis Week?"

"Are you kidding? I'm not passing _that_ up. Alden said I won fair and square."

Tim just laughed.

"What about you, McCasanova?"

"I put in another request. Still waiting to hear back from HR."

Then, his computer beeped at him.

"Uh oh. There it is."

"Come on, Probie! I promised you that you'd get this weekend off!"

"You're not HR, Tony."

"But I _know_ people, McGee."

Tim furrowed his brow but opened the email and sighed with relief.

"Finally approved."

"Enjoy your weekend getaway," Tony said with a grin.

"Knock on wood," Tim said. "With my luck, we'll have a case of a Marilyn Monroe impersonator being killed and then, you'll come out as one of them, too."

Tony couldn't help it. The image was so ridiculous that he laughed, even if he wanted to act annoyed by the comparison.

"Never. Elvis is my limit."

Gibbs came in, then, and they both got back to work. At the end of the day, Tim got called down to help Abby for a few minutes, but Tony was released. He knew that Tim wouldn't be there for long because Abby had a bowling tournament to get to; so he didn't feel bad about leaving first.

He headed out of the building and toward his car. When he got there, someone was already there, leaning on it.

"That's my car, you know," he said. "I'm a federal agent and I'm armed."

"No need for guns, Agent DiNozzo," Faith said, as she walked out of the shadows.

Tony smiled. "Commander Coleman, I didn't recognize you when you weren't in your uniform. What can I do for you?"

"Congratulations on your win," she said.

"My win?"

"I was there, Mr. Rossi."

Tony remembered Tim saying that Faith had been an admirer, and he grinned.

"Good show, wasn't it," he said.

"Very good. I'm a fan."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, and I have a question for you," she said.

"What's that?"

"Would you mind giving me a private concert?"

Tony's eyebrows went up in surprise.

"Um...when?"

Faith leaned in. "Whenever. I told you. I'm a fan."

Tony considered for a few seconds and found that the idea had more than a little appeal.

"I don't have any plans for tonight," he said.

"Neither do I," Faith replied.

"What would you like me to start with?"

"How about a little less conversation, and a little more action," Faith said with a surprising smile.

Tony found himself responding to her proposition. He grinned.

"Satisfy me, baby."

FINIS!


End file.
